Reverie by Amy Tyler, Rose Pond (read with me TXT) 📕

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Reverie [rev-eh-ree] - noun

1. A state of dreamy meditation or fanciful musing.

2. A daydream.

3. A fantastic, visionary or impractical idea.

The crowds parted and you slowly walked across the room. I lifted the cold glass of ice water that I held in my hands to my lips. It was all I could do to make sure my jaw hadn't already grazed the floor.

This was the first prom that our school had let freshmen and seniors attend. It was like a 'Congrats, you made it through a whole year' party for freshmen and a 'Yay! You're outta here!' party for the seniors. Either way, everyone who attended this party had some sort of story tell the next day.

I'm a freshman and I definitely had a story to tell. It contained almost nothing about today's party though, it revolved more around the subject of you.

I was a freshmen and you were too. Disregarding that fact, you were still the beauty of the room tonight in your white floor length gown, your dark curly hair up in a bun, with just a few elegant tendrils left loose. You were like the only candy in a room full of hungry toddlers.

Throughout the year, it was almost like my only subject, studying you.

We sat in English class together and yet the most you ever spoke to me was when we prepared for a project on writing the other person's biography. You had told me about your passion of writing, how words were everything to you. I could barely remember the words that came our of your pretty little mouth but I still do remember every single one of the expressions that was painted on your face as you talked about your passion.

I had learned more about you by your colorful expressions than by what you had told me.

Then there was that one time when you talked about your crush and wanted a guy's perspective of you and what guys thought of you. You had thought that you were being clingy and needy, I thought that your words were complete and utter horse shit.

For one, I had to bear the fact that you were interested in a guy that wasn't me. And two, I had to sit there and spend minutes and minutes listening to you insult yourself. Almost as if you couldn't see just how beautiful and charming you were. But despite having a great urge to step in and tell you that one shouldn't lie, I kept quiet and just listened to what you had to say. I understood that you need someone to vent to, not talk.

Then there was that one day in summer where we met at that family gathering. My family had gone to my cousin's place and I found out that your family was friends with them as well. I remember seeing you in the red and green sundress in my cousin's backyard and how hard the fact that you were utterly gorgeous had hit me.

I don't think we actually spoke to one another that night other than the formal 'hello' and 'how are you?' But just having you there made the day all the better.

I saw you again that summer at their house for another dinner gathering. You were in tight jeans and a flowery top and for some reason you looked worried. My mother befriended yours and that's how we found ourselves in my house for Christmas. That's when you had told me about your boyfriend. You wanted to keep it a secret but yet you trusted me with it. That's all I could do for you. Keep your secrets. Near the end of the night you told me that I really was a great friend. That's all I could ever be.

Days passed and finally I mustered up a small amount of courage and decided to ask you out. During English class, you somehow understood what me, as a stuttering pathetic mess, was trying so badly to convey. I remember how you softly told me that you thought of me as just a friend. I remember how you were close to tears while refusing me. I remember how you told me that I was an amazing person and how any girl would love to have me as a boyfriend. I remember each and every moment, each and every line, each and every expression.

Months passed and then you came up to me one day. You started out with how I was and what I was doing finally you told me that you'd realized how much you liked me and had dumped your boyfriend for me. I had just stared at you and asked you as gently as I could what he'd done this time. You broke down on me and cried about how he had cheated on you with your best friend, and you couldn't bare to see either of their faces again. I just held you close to me, knowing this is the closest we would ever be.

And now here we were. Across the room from each other. Not one step taken towards the other. I stared at you as you walked up to your friends and gave each of them a hug. The year did end up working out for you.

I looked away and got myself a glass of the spiked fruit punch. I needed something stronger this time. Something to get me out of my endless reverie.

[922 words]

Text: Amy Pond
Images: Public
Editing: Jane Drake
Translation: Amy Pond
Publication Date: 03-14-2013

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Dedication:
This book is dedicated to a very close friend of mine, Ryan. His whole personality and attitude is the base of this short story.